


I've Made No Mistakes

by ScarletR



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: A lot of cursing, Breaking Bad AU, Criminal Investigation, Dpd, Drugs, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Gavin Reed Backstory, Gavin Reed is an asshole, Gavin Reed is still a cop, Gavin hates Kamski with all his heart, M/M, The Breaking Bad AU I've been desperately needing, Violence, criminal activity, cursing, red ice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-04 22:03:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16355093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletR/pseuds/ScarletR
Summary: Gavin thought back to his garage, to his equipment and container of small, pretty red crystals. He thought about how much time he spent on them, how he could look at them for minutes on end and still find them interesting. He thought about how they reflected sunlight like church windows and send small rays of light everywhere.Huh. They really were like glass, weren’t they? Or no, maybe something less clear and more murky. Ice? Yeah… they were like ice. Red ice.AKA, The Breaking Bad AU I've been desperately wanting!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first off, I have to tell ya'll that if you like regular updates, THIS STORY IS NOT FOR YOU. I'm sorry, but my writing schedule is pretty shit because of school and work. But I will try to update as often as possible. I just had this idea in my head and I HAD TO WRITE IT! I love the idea of druglord Gavin! and I thought it fit his character very well. So, I hope ya'll enjoy! :D

4:40 p.m., May 12th, 2020

“You fucking piece of shit.” 

Elijah Kamski didn’t turn to face him, didn’t even acknowledge his words. Of course he didn’t, of course he’d ignore his step brother, his fucking family. 

Gavin held back an angry growl, stepping further into the room. “Hey, asshole,” he called, his eyes dark and furious. 

Kamski once again ignored him, too busy working on his projects, his plastic humans. The room was covered in notes, in drawings and blue prints. The walls were plastered with papers and ideas. The furniture was covered in sticky notes, each one covered in messy handwriting. 

Gavin stepped further into the room, his fists clenched. “Elijah, you dick, you fucking upset Mom. Go apologize to her instead of drooling all over diagrams of your plastic whores.” 

When Elijah ignored him again, Gavin clenched his jaw and had to keep himself from punching his brother in the face. 

“You know what,” Gavin spat. “Fine. Treat people like shit while you worship your fake fucking androids. Rot in hell, asshole, we’ll all be happy without you.” 

Before leaving, Gavin swiped a paper off Elijah’s desk, not even bothering to see what it was. All he knew was that he wanted a little revenge, and if it meant stealing some of his brother’s pretentious blue prints, then so be it. 

With quick, nimble fingers, Gavin crumpled the paper and stuffed it into his pocket. He wanted to tear it apart, wanted to burn it and destroy all evidence of its existence. But he knew that if his Mom were to somehow find out what he did, he’d be punished if he wasn’t able to return it, so he held back. 

However, Gavin didn’t dare regret his harsh words. They were justified and completely heartfelt. 

Elijah was an asshole, a total piece of shit who didn’t care about anyone but himself. He ignored everyone, his mom, his brother, and his peers. He was cold and uncaring, aloof and empty. He didn’t care that his behavior was breaking their mom’s heart, he didn’t care that he was drifting farther and farther from Gavin, who secretly missed his company. Elijah didn’t care about them anymore, all he cared about were his imaginary androids, his plastic people. 

And so Gavin hated Kamski, because if his step brother loved andriods so much, he decided it was only fair to treat him like one. 

After all, he was already cold and uncaring, why not add “inhuman” to his long list of inadequacies? 

*

Gavin ended up keeping the paper he stole from Kamski after his asshole of a brother left for college. In fact, he did more than keep it, he kept it up on his wall as a trophy, as a little reminder to himself of his brother’s shitty memory. 

Gavin went to a local college, where it would be easier to make ends meet. But of course, it was never good enough for his Mom. She wanted him to do better, to try harder, despite knowing that Elijah had done exactly that and had stopped needing her in the process. 

She always loved Elijah more, always thought he was better, smarter, stronger, and brimming with potential. She loved him to death despite the fact that he constantly ignored her existence and treated her like dirt. 

But Gavin stayed, he loved his Mom and did what she asked, though begrudgingly. He actually paid attention to her, he made sure to be around, to give her company unlike his asshole brother. And yet it hadn’t been enough. 

He’d never be able to match Elijah, to match his brilliance. 

It hurt, and sometimes Gavin thinks that was why he discovered what he did, why he finally tried harder and ended up finding his entire future in the process. 

*

Of course, his criminal law degree hadn’t meant jackshit to his Mom or Elijah. Of course, they didn’t care or give less of a shit. His Mom had been the only one to bother to attend his graduation, Elijah too busy to show up. But Gavin could easily see past her façade. 

“I’m happy for you, honey,” she would say, flashing her generic smile. 

But Gavin knew that he’d always be compared to Elijah, that every one of his achievements would seem dull in comparison to his brother’s. 

It was bullshit. 

But then Elijah actually succeeded in making his androids a reality, and things only got worse.

*

Gavin didn’t call his brother by his first name anymore. Elijah was now Kamski. He didn’t want to think of that man as his brother, as family anymore. Especially now that he could see him in his full glory, acting like a complete maniac and being praised for it. 

Gavin was currently at a party hosted by Elij – Kamski, standing near a wall with a drink in his hand. He hadn’t wanted to attend, in fact, he was surprised he’d been invited in the first place, but there he was. 

Secretly, Gavin knew why he had bothered to show up. Deep inside him was still a naïve teenager who wanted his brother back, who wanted a sibling, someone he could laugh with and care about. He should’ve killed that part of him long ago. 

Across the room, Kamski was showing off the first ever android model. It was feminine with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. It was thin and beautiful and horribly life like. It was wearing a tight dress, standing perfectly still. It looked alive, as if it could move at any moment, but thankfully it didn’t. 

It made Gavin want to cringe.

As a teen, he had always called Kamski’s drawings and models his ‘plastic whores’ as something of a jab, but now he was disturbed by his own ability to predict the future. He could see multiple men in the room openly ogle at the android, and he saw the way Kamski touched it, how he talked about it, how his eyes never seemed to stray from it. 

Gavin felt sick. 

He made to leave, but a voice called out to him. 

“Hey, Gavin! Is that you? I didn’t think you’d bother to show up!” 

Gavin saw no point in being polite and turned to face Kamski who was surrounded by a group of uptight, self-absorbed asshole. 

“Actually, I was just leaving,” he said, his voice clipped. 

Kamski’s face fell, but Gavin knew it was fake. “What? Why are you leaving? Are the appetizers not to your liking?” 

Gavin clenched his jaw, anger already seeping into his bloodstream. “They were just fucking dandy. I find the entertainment a bit lacking though.” 

Kamski laughed and his lackeys followed suit. “Ah, you police men always get bored when there’s no criminals to chase.” 

“Oh, I’m sure I could find a few in this room,” Gavin said with a straight face, eyeing some of the business men lounging on expensive leather couches. 

Kamski laughed again, taking Gavin’s prickly attitude in stride. “You’re as paranoid as always, Gavin.”

Gavin sent him a withering look. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” Kamski said, still smiling. He stepped to the side, allowing a better view of the android. “Do you not like her? She’s stunning isn’t she?” 

“It,” Gavin corrected, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s a machine, not a person.” 

Kamski looked around at his lackeys, who were all staring at him, begging for his attention and approval. “Come on,” Kamski called out, light hearted and arrogant. “You don’t find her the least bit beautiful? I worked on her for months.” 

“No thanks,” Gavin said, his eyebrow twitching. “Unlike some people in this room, I’d rather not bang something that isn’t alive. I’d be like fucking a house plant.” 

“You’re no fun,” Kamski complained with a huff. 

“Yeah, well, thank God I don’t have to be,” Gavin replied, sending glares to the many needy peers surrounding Kamski. 

After that, he left and didn’t look back, not even when he heard people murmuring, “brother,” “jealous,” “police man.” 

Sometimes he wishes he had turned back, that he had set them straight, but most of the time he’s happy he left as quickly as he did. Lord knows he needed the practice in self-restraint. 

*

Gavin wasn’t completely sure why he snapped when he did. At the time, he had just gotten promoted from a normal police officer to a detective, and had called his Mom to tell her. However, she only bombarded him with, “Elijah,” this and “Elijah” that. 

She didn’t seem to give a shit that his hard work had paid off, she didn’t seem to care at all. After hearing about Kamski’s latest achievement for twenty minutes straight Gavin interrupted his Mom mid-sentence to ask, “Mom, did you hear what I said earlier?” 

“Huh? What is it, honey?” 

Gavin clenched his jaw. “Did you hear what I said earlier? About my work?” 

A moment of silence passed. 

“No, Honey, I didn’t. Can you tell me again?” 

Gavin hung up the phone, well actually, he threw it across the room and let it break against the wall with a harsh crack. 

It was official, his Mom really didn’t care about him at all. All her love was given to Kamski, reserved for his brother who didn’t give a shit about anything but his plastic dolls. He would never be able to compete against his genius, asshole step brother, he’d always be dog shit compared to him. 

Sure, Gavin knew he wasn’t a genius, but he wasn’t a fucking idiot either. What was so great about Kamski and so shitty about him? 

Okay, yeah, he was an asshole with anger issues, but Kamski was also an asshole and a sarcastic dick who didn’t care about anyone at all. Actually, they were similar in many ways, the only difference between them was their income and their desire to fuck plastic dolls. 

Why did their mom love him less? What had he done that was so terrible, or what had he not done that made her care about him so little? Why did he mean less to her, why did he always feel like he had to work harder, like he would never be good enough, even for himself?

With dark, angry eyes Gavin stared at the one of the frames on the wall. Between the glass of the picture frame was the paper he’d stolen from Kamski many years ago. He still had it as a reminder of his brother’s selfishness. He wanted to tear it apart, to burn it into nothing, but he held back. 

Gavin grinded his teeth together, anger and frustration boiling in his blood. 

There was nothing that Kamski could do that he couldn’t. Sure, his brother was a genius, but they shared half their DNA, so Gavin was sure they weren’t as intellectually different as most people assumed. 

He stared at the paper, long ago recognizing it as a chemical compound of sorts, one made from a long list of ingredients that he didn’t understand. Gavin didn’t know what it had been for or what it made, but he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t dumb, he wasn’t stupid. 

He could do whatever Kamski could do, or he’d die trying. 

*

Fuck, Gavin hated chemistry. Not to mention, the supplies were fucking expensive and fragile as all fuck. God, why was he doing this again? To prove some point that he had created while he was agonizing over his lack of love?

Give him a break. 

His Mom and Brother didn’t love him, he’d just had to accept that fact and get over it eventually. As for the experiment he was stubbornly conducting, well he was a bit too deep into it to turn back now. 

A month had passed, and Gavin had dived head first into creating the chemical he had hanging on his wall. Of course, it turned out to be much more complicated that he expected, but fuck it. Nine hundred dollars was about how much it cost to get all the equipment, which had Gavin cursing to himself like a sailor, but he told himself that it would all be worth it. 

But, of course, he was wrong. 

Another month passed, an agonizing set of days where he read through chemistry books, watched online tutorials, and even attended some college seminars to learn how to properly create the chemical. All his effort, all his time and money spent for stupid fucking crystals that looked red as blood. 

The batch he made weighed a few ounces and the crystals were of a range of shapes and sizes. On some level, Gavin thought they were a bit pretty, but other than that, completely useless. 

He had stormed out of his garage at that point, wondering why he had spent so much time on something that only left him feeling sadder than before. 

God, why was he such an idiot? Why was he so fucking stupid? 

Gavin grabbed at his hair, his eyes snapped shut and his back hunched over. He wanted to scream and cry, to punch something. God, what was wrong with him? 

No wonder his Mom didn’t give a shit about him. 

At that thought, Gavin let out a deep sigh. He let his arms fall limp at his sides and he straightened his back. He forced his mind to go blank, to become empty before stepping back into his garage with tired, angry eyes. 

He approached the little red crystals again and inspected them closely. Yeah, they were kinda pretty and they reflected light very well. They reminded him of the type of crystals people had in jewelry and earrings. Their color reminded him of cherries and strawberries. However, they didn’t smell like much. 

Gavin frowned. 

They kinda looked like crystal meth, but red instead of white. 

Oh, shit. Wait. 

“Did I create fucking meth? Is this meth?” 

Quickly, Gavin pulled out his phone and googled the chemical compound that made up meth. Thankfully, it was pretty different. And it hindsight, he knew Kamski would’ve been too much of a pussy to write a diagram about something so dangerous back when they were teenagers. 

Gavin wondered what function the compound had been meant to serve. 

It had probably been a prototype for something android related. Maybe something in their make-up. Their hair? Their skin? No, no, it had to be something that would be red. Blood? Maybe it was a prototype for android blood. 

Gavin let out a laugh. If that was true then it was a shitty prototype. All that was right had been the color. Maybe Kamski wasn’t as smart as everyone made him out to be, after all. 

Nonetheless, Gavin knew that android blood was blue, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if Kamski had first wanted it to be red. He wanted his dolls to be a life like as possible, after all. 

Gavin looked down at the mass of crystals, frowning. “What the fuck do I do with you now?”

*

To say Gavin was a good cop wasn’t inaccurate. He cared about his job and actually found joy in solving cases and helping people (indirectly, of course). He was a cruel son of a bitch though, and he wasn’t afraid to step on people’s toes and tell them exactly what he thought of them. 

“I don’t like you,” “Fuck off,” and “Go fuck yourself,” were pretty common phrases for him to say and it wasn’t exactly surprising that he was known around the precinct for being an asshole. He had very little friends and a lot of people who wouldn’t mind punching him in the face, but Gavin didn’t care. 

They could all fuck off. 

He was there to do his job and then leave. 

However, Gavin constantly felt his insecurity like an itch. He found himself doubting his job, his passion, his drive. Was it all worth it? Was he okay where he was now? Gavin hated how his thoughts ate away at his ability to work. He lost sleep, he struggled to focus, he made more mistakes. It was agonizing. 

Fuck, why did Kamski have to go ruining his life when he wasn’t even part of it anymore? 

One day, after coming home from a long shift, Gavin snapped. 

“God fucking dammit!” he screamed, his fists clenched at his sides. “Why do I have to be so fucking emotional? Can’t I just get over myself for five fucking minutes?” 

Gavin stood in his living room for a few moments, just breathing with his eyes closed and his entire body stiff as a board. He didn’t want to think, he didn’t want to move. 

But he did anyway. 

He kept obsessing over what to do, how to make himself feel less fucking weak. But what could he do? He already had a stable job and career. He went to the gym and worked out. He had things he enjoyed, he had events to look forward to. 

So what was missing? 

Gavin frowned as he thought back to his Mom and brother. He hadn’t spoken to either of them in years. He could feel their absence, could feel the loss of them even now. 

Maybe… maybe it would be best to reconnect with them. To feel like a family again. 

No. No, he couldn’t do that. Not after what they did, not after their blatant neglect and lack of giving a fuck. Besides, Gavin already saw enough of Kamski’s success without having to see him in person. Andriods were everywhere now, they were in the streets, in homes, in hospitals, in every place you could look. 

Gavin shuttered as he remembered the last Christmas card he’d been sent by his brother (one he hadn’t asked for). The photo had just been him surrounded by what looked to be a horde of beautiful, blonde androids. 

Jesus Christ, his brother was a maniac. 

Gavin couldn’t imagine fucking something that didn’t even have the ability to give consent. Andriods were just robots, just moving metal. They weren’t capable of doing anything besides their programming. Fuck, just the thought of it made him nauseous. 

He’d stick to real people, to real flesh and blood. At least then he wouldn’t have to worry about getting attached to something that would never be able to love him back. 

Heh, what a cruel, fucked up world he lived in. 

His brother and mother were completely human and yet he had the same problem…. Getting attached to them despite the fact that they clearly didn’t give a fuck about him. So, Gavin couldn’t, and wasn’t willing, to go to his ‘family’ for help. So where could he go? 

He didn’t really feel like he could trust anybody to know how he felt. He didn’t want to talk about it either, to show his weakness to anyone but himself. But he also wasn’t sure of how to fix it alone. 

Slowly, Gavin made his way to his garage, where all the lab equipment still sat. He hadn’t had the time or the energy to move it elsewhere, but the red crystals were in a clear, glass container lying on one of the tables. 

Gavin approached and grabbed it, lifting it to the light. The red crystals reflected it back in all directions, giving the room a somewhat pinkish glow. 

Gavin found himself genuinely smiling for the first time in what felt like days. 

“Huh, you little guys are kinda pretty,” he murmured. “But I have no idea what the fuck to do with you.” 

Gavin let out a deep sigh. 

“Fuck it,” he breathed. “Let’s find out more about you little guys, I guess.” 

So, that’s how Gavin began doing more testing. He first tested their melting points, which was pretty low at 100 degrees Fahrenheit. He didn’t brother to test a freezing point because they were crystals and he didn’t feel like brothering with that shit. But he did look up each chemical in the compound to find out its effects on the human body, which overall, were very negative. 

“Huh, you little guys are pretty poisonous, huh?” he said to the red crystals as he hunched over his laptop. 

“But then again, a bunch of shit we eat is bad for us,” he mused openly. “You guys could taste like strawberries for all I fuckin’ know.” 

At the end of his experiments, he still had no idea what to do with them. But he still thought they were pretty so he decided to make more. 

“Might as well, right?” he muttered to himself. “At least it’s a hobby, kind of.” 

So, he made three more batches over the course of the next week and to be honest, it was pretty fucking fun. Sure, his garage started smelling like shit and he had to air it out constantly, but eh, it was a small price to pay for the hours of distraction it gave him. 

By the end of it, he had almost a pound of the little red crystals. 

Gavin stared down at them with his hands on his hips and a frown on his brow. “I’m gonna have to start doing something with you, cause you guys are fucking expensive to make." It was true, every batch costed him over one hundred dollars in materials alone. 

Gavin let out a frustrated groan and leaned back in his seat. “What the fuck do I do with you?” he asked, as if expecting the red crystals to answer. 

He rubbed at his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. “I’m going crazy, talking to a bunch of fucking crystals.”

He put them into a larger glass container before leaving his garage and trudging into his bedroom. Sure, making the crystals was fun but it was fucking time consuming. If he started making them once he got home from work he’d finish at around two in the morning which was pretty fucking awful. 

But a part of him didn’t really care. It was better than drinking all night long or sitting in front of the television that would slowly rot his brain away. 

“Better than nothing,” Gavin murmured to himself as he lied down in his bed, wrapping his blankets tight around him. He was exhausted and was grateful to feel warm and comfortable after a long day of work. 

Sleep always came easy after making the crystals, which was always a big relief. 

*

Gavin dealt with a lot of drug users in his line of work. 

Generally, they were messy, spazzed out, desperate pieces of shit who cared more about their next fix than themselves and their families. They were usually visibly unhealthy and batshit due to the chemical imbalances in their brains. 

Needless to say, Gavin hated druggies. 

“I just hate ‘em,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest with a deep frown on his face. He was currently in the break room, sitting across one of his co-workers, a smug asshole named Hank who was admittedly pretty good at his job. 

“Really?” Hank asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “You never experimented in high school or college?” 

“Fuck no. Where do you think I learned to hate them?” Gavin scoffed and looked away, disgust written clearly on his features. 

Hank laughed at that. “Oh, let me guess. Hot boxes huh?” 

“Worse. Stupid bitches took hard core drugs thinking they wouldn’t get hooked and then dropped out by the end of the year, looking like someone attempted to mug them to death. Pathetic.” 

“And sad,” Hank added. 

“No, it’s not sad,” Gavin spat. “It was their mistake and they either own up to it and quit or rot and die.” 

Hank shook his head with a grimace. “That’s harsh and pretty damn hypocritical.” 

Gavin narrowed his eyes at the old son of a bitch. “What the fuck are you saying?” 

Hank rolled his eyes. “You’re a smoker, asshole. You’re addicted to nicotine.” 

“And you’re an alcoholic,” Gavin shot back, completely unapologetic. “But there’s a pretty big damn difference between drinking three beers a night and sticking a needle in your arm.” 

Hank frowned at him, clearly getting annoyed at the conversation. “I’m just saying, we all have our coping mechanisms.” 

Gavin thought back to his garage, to his equipment and container of small, pretty red crystals. He thought about how much time he spent on them, how he could look at them for minutes on end and still find them interesting. He thought about how they reflected light like church windows and send small rays of light everywhere. 

Huh. They really were like glass, weren’t they? Or no, maybe something less clear and more murky. Ice? Yeah… they were like ice. Red ice. 

“Yeah, I guess we do,” Gavin murmured, his face more somber than before. 

Hank noticed his sudden change in attitude, but didn’t comment. It wasn’t his business anyway. 

*

Gavin got into shitty situation on a regular basis. Not because he wanted to but because people generally didn’t like his “go fuck yourself” attitude. And it certainly didn’t help that he was a cop, so he basically HAD to intervene in certain situations even when he wasn’t on duty. 

So, on his way to the convenience store, Gavin had no choice but to chase after and apprehend a drug dealer he happened to see making an exchange in an alleyway. The first guy, the dumbass wanting to buy the drugs, fled in a different direction but Gavin didn’t care. He was more interested in the drug dealer anyway. 

The initial chase was easy enough given that he was a pretty fit person, but once he caught up, it became difficult to get on equal footing when the man pulled out a gun from his jacket pocket and pointed it straight at Gavin’s chest. Not to mention, they were still in an alleyway, away from public eyes, so if the man were to shoot, he would most likely be able to get away. 

“Aw, fuck,” Gavin muttered, stopping in his tracks. 

He wanted to rush forward and either grab the gun or knock it out of the fucker’s hands, but he was too far away. If he did, he’d risk getting shot somewhere fatal. 

Gavin grinded his teeth together, frustration boiling in his blood. “Congrats, fucker. You got me.” 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

Gavin let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. “The fuck do you think, dumbass? Your fucking cousin?” 

The man faltered. “Um, are you my – “ 

“Oh my God, a drug dealer and an idiot too. What a great fucking mix.” 

The man’s eyes narrowed, and he tightened his grip on his gun, as if to appear more intimidating. “Are you a cop?” 

“Hell yeah I am. And you’re a fucking drug dealer.” 

The man simply blinked for a moment, shock and horror written on his face. Gavin simply stared at him, frustrated and angry at himself for failing at his job. 

“So,” Gavin asked with a sneer. “Are you gonna shoot me and have the entire Detroit Police Department on your ass, or are you gonna run away?” 

Predictably, the man darted away and out of sight in a few seconds, desperate and scared. However, Gavin made sure to etch the man’s face into his memory, to remember every detail so that if he saw him again, he’d be sure to catch him. 

With a frown, Gavin straightened his clothes and turned back the way he came. “I fucking hate drug dealers,” he murmured to himself. 

*

One night, as Gavin sat in his garage making more of his little red crystals, he contemplated what to do with them. He had over a pound of them stashed away, so he had to find a way to gain a profit from them if he wanted to keep up his hobby. 

“Maybe I could sell them as fake rubies for jewelry or something,” he mused. “Or maybe I could melt them down and make something with them, like figurines or something. But who the fuck would buy them?” 

Gavin shook his head, dismissing those thoughts. He was hunched over a table, an apron wrapped around his waist and goggles framing his face. He also had rubber gloves on and always made sure to wear close toed shoes when working in his garage. 

He knew he looked like a fucking moron, but it wasn’t like anyone was around to judge him. 

After creating the new batch, he shed his lab gear and went inside. He thought about taking a shower to get rid of the lingering smell on his skin and hair, but he was too tired to do anything but plop onto his bed and sleep. 

The next morning, he woke peacefully for the first time in months. His eyes fluttered open and he groaned, burying himself deeper under the duvet. He was warm and comfortable. Thank God it was a Sunday.

… 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuucck!” 

It was Thursday. 

With another frustrated groan, Gavin rolled out of bed and hastily got ready for work. He was already late, and he didn’t feel like getting yelled at more than he deserved, so he practically ran out of his house in his rush to get to work, forgetting to take a shower beforehand. 

Yes, he ended up getting yelled at by his superior, but that was hardly the most memorable moment of the day. 

“God fuck,” Hank said, turning away from Gavin after he took a seat across from him. They were both in the break room, eating lunch. For once, Hank hadn’t decided to go out and instead packed a meal that looked as unhealthy as the usual shit he ate. 

“The fuck?” Gavin sneered, very clearly offended. “What the hell did I do to you, asshole?” 

“You smell like a fucking crack house,” Hank said with a grimace.

“Oh, yeah? Because that seems like the type of place I would frequent, huh, dickhead?” Gavin challenged, his eyes narrowed and angry. 

“You?” Hank scoffed. “As if. You’d happily beat a drug user with your bare hands if given the chance. But maybe you should watch who you bring home, cause you smell like all sorts of trouble.” 

“You think I fucked a crack head?” Gavin asked, disgust written clear on his face. 

Hank chuckled at that, finding the other’s obvious distaste amusing. “Hey, be glad I think anyone would be willing to fuck you at all. Your attitudes the second worst thing since World War Two.” 

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Fuck off. As if getting my dick sucked is my biggest concern.” 

“Well, wherever that smell is from, get rid of it.” Hank shook his head disapprovingly. “You have no business smelling like that, especially in here.” 

After that, Gavin borrowed some cologne from one of the other police officers and continued with his work, but at the back of his mind he wondered why exactly the lingering smell of his lab resembled that of a crack house. 

“Fuck,” Gavin murmured as he did paperwork. “What the fuck have I been making…” 

*

After work, Gavin immediately went to his garage. His thoughts had been going haywire the entire day and all he could think about were his little red crystals and just what the fuck they were. 

“They can’t be drugs right?” he asked out loud. “I know it’s not meth, and it can’t be crack.” He groaned, pulling at his hair. “Then why the fuck did Hank say it smells like fucking drugs?” 

Gavin let out a deep breath and decided to be honest with himself. “Who the fuck am I kidding, it does smell like a fucking drug den in here.” He looked over his equipment, each one in need of a deep cleaning. Many of the glasses were already lightly stained red and minutes of scrubbing couldn’t remove it. 

“If it’s a drug, then it doesn’t even really fucking exist,” Gavin said, as if to reassure himself. “It’s not like I can be arrested for making something that isn’t even used recreationally or illegally. It’s just crystals, stupid little crystals I make for fun.” 

… but they didn’t have to be. 

Gavin snapped his eyes open and frowned. “No, I’m not even going to fucking think that. I’m not a fucking drug dealer, the fucking scum of the earth.” Besides, he wasn’t even sure if the crystals could be used as drugs anyways. 

But he knew a way to find out. 

*

Two more months passed before Gavin found him again. Jesus, the fucker knew how to hide, and it was a fucking pain in his ass. 

“Hey! Asshole!” 

The drug dealer that had pointed a gun at Gavin’s chest only a few months prior turned and then proceeded to run away in terror. They were actually in the middle of a convenience store of all places, and luckily, Gavin was off work which was another stroke of luck. 

He’d been looking for that particular drug dealer for fucking months and wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass him by. 

Gavin quickly chased after him and held back a triumphant smile when the man ran out the back entrance, where he would surely be able to be cornered. He chased after the man for a good minute, making sure to keep his breaths even and his pace fast and steady. 

He was only a few strides away from the man in question, and Gavin was just waiting for the chase to end so he could get down to business. 

Eventually, Gavin saw a wall ahead and he knew the man would either panic or completely give up. He wasn’t surprised when the man pulled out a gun, but Gavin was ready, pulling out a gun of his own. 

So, there they stood, pointing weapons at each other’s chest like they were in a fucking action movie. 

Gavin had never felt more alive than in that moment. It was different than before. He didn’t feel in danger, even though he knew that he could die at any moment. He could miscalculate and easily get a bullet in his chest as payment, but he wasn’t afraid. 

He felt big, he felt powerful. He was brimming with a confidence that he usually had to force himself to feel, but now, it came to him naturally. 

All thanks to a little bag of red crystals in his shirt pocket. 

The drug dealer was the first to speak. He was young, 23 years old at most, and Caucasian. He was wearing baggy clothing and the hood of his jacket covered most of his blonde hair. He was wearing dark clothing, as if to make himself look inconspicuous. His voice wasn’t very low and revealed his young age. 

“L-leave me alone. I don’t want any trouble,” the man said, not lowering his weapon. 

Gavin didn’t put his weapon down either. “I’m not here to arrest you, lucky fucker.” 

The man didn’t believe him. “Bullshit!” he yelled, his voice echoing down the alleyway. “I remember you from last time!” 

“And I remember you,” Gavin shot back just as quickly. “But I’m not here to fucking arrest you. I’m here to make a deal.” 

The man frowned, confused and still on high alert. “Why the fuck would I want to make a deal with a cop?” 

“Because this cop has something you like.” 

The man was silent, clearly still confused. 

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Drugs, I mean drugs you idiot.” 

The man frowned in exasperation. “Why the fuck would a cop have drugs?” 

Gavin shrugged. “It’s a hobby of mine. Now, are you interested?” 

The man hesitated for a moment, his gun lowering by a small fraction. “What type of drugs are we talking about?” 

“A new type.” 

The man scoffed, openly disbelieving. “A new type? That’s some bullshit, dude.” 

Gavin dug into his shirt pocket with his free hand and took out the small bag of red crystals. He held it up in plain view and the man stared at it in curiosity. 

When Gavin spoke, his voice was stronger than before, oozing with confidence. “I’m not really sure how they work yet. Smoke ‘em, snort them, inject them, I don’t give a fuck. I just need to know if they work.” 

The man took a small step back, his eyes narrowed. “How much are you charging for them?” 

Gavin held back a cruel smile. “Nothing. They’re free.” 

The man blinked, and he reared back in surprise. “What? Is this a joke, dude?” His eyes widened is sudden fear. “Are you wearing a fucking wire? Are you recording me right now?” 

Gavin quickly lifted his shirt to show he wasn’t wearing a wire. He also dropped his phone to the ground and smashed it under his foot, making sure to break it as much as possible. The man watched in silence the entire time, completely silent. 

Once he was done with his display, Gavin spoke again. “No, I’m not fucking recording you and no I’m not fucking tricking you. I’m giving them to you for free. You can sell them for whatever price, I just need to know if they work.” 

The man was suspicious, and he raised his weapon. “What if your drug kills my clients?” 

Gavin didn’t even bother to pretend to be concerned. “Then don’t sell them to your clients. I don’t give a fuck who you give them to. But it seems like a pretty good fucking deal to me. You get free drugs and I get the information I want.” He narrowed his eyes at the man. “Now, are you interested?” 

The man was silent for a few moments, still looking at the bag in Gavin’s hands. There was about three ounces in the bag and each crystal reflected what little light was in the alleyway they currently occupied. 

“Fine,” the man said almost begrudgingly. “I’ll take them.” 

Instantly, Gavin tossed them over and watched as the drug dealer caught the bag with his free hand. He looked at the crystals closely, as if they would tell him all their secrets. 

“What are they called?” the man asked, still cautious. 

Finally, Gavin smiled, feeling a deep satisfaction at the question. “Red Ice,” he said, liking how those words sounded. “I call them Red Ice.” 

*

It was only a test run, Gavin reasoned. He was only figuring out if his crystals were actual drugs. He wasn’t a drug dealer or a criminal, he was just curious, that was all. So, after giving the drug dealer his number (to a burner phone, of course, not his actual fucking phone) he walked off and went on with his life. 

He still made more crystals, couldn’t help it really. He already had more than three pounds of the stuff, but he found himself wanting to make more and more. However, he knew that he’d have to stop making them in his garage eventually. He’d have to find somewhere else to make them, somewhere remote and isolated. 

But that was something he’d figure out later. 

So, he went on with his job, with work, with his normal life. He still went to the gym, he still worked hard, he still ate and slept, and he still made his crystals, his Red Ice. 

But he felt different. 

He still felt big and powerful, like how he did in the alleyway. There was a confidence in him that he had never felt before. It pumped in his blood and made him feel alive. There was a part of him that felt fulfilled, that felt accomplished. 

He wondered if that was how Kamski felt every day. If that was what success felt like. 

It was addicting. Gavin never wanted to stop feeling it, he never wanted to live without it. 

So, when his burner phone rung two weeks after his exchange with the drug dealer (who’s name he barely remembered to be John, thought he doubted that was the man’s actual name), he answered immediately. Luckily, ‘John’ remembered to call after work hours, so Gavin was at home at the time of the call. 

Before Gavin could even speak, John’s voice erupted from the speaker, making him flinch. 

“What the fuck did you give me?” 

Gavin scowled. “Hey, keep your fucking voice down. Now, what the fuck do you want?” 

“I want to know what the fuck you gave me!” 

Gavin barely kept a sneer off his face. “What the fuck are you? An amnesiac? Drugs, dumbass, that’s what the fuck I gave you!” 

“This has to be meth, or some sort of cocaine because I have people clawing at my face to get more of this shit.” 

Gavin had no response to that. 

In a single moment, he felt his heart speed impossible fast in his chest and he almost fell to the floor from the overwhelming nature of it. He could hear blood rush behind his ears and he blinked owlishly, overwhelmed and in shock. 

His crystals were being compared to cocaine, to fucking meth, the worst of the worst drugs… and also the most addicting. 

“They’re that bad, huh?” Gavin asked, sounding winded. 

“Bad? No, they’re that fucking GOOD! I need more of this shit, pronto! I’ll even fucking pay for it!” 

Gavin felt a rush of adrenaline. It flooded his system and he staggered on his feet, caught between running and collapsing in on himself. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Fuck, he was actually fucking freaked out. Fuck, FUCK!

But there was more than that, more than the mortification, more than the fear and shock… there was a deep satisfaction, a sense of success and triumph that made his brain short circuit and fizzle like a glitching machine. 

Before he could stop it, a startled laugh escaped his mouth and he was smiling like a fucking lunatic. 

“Fuck, they’re actual fucking drugs. Holy shit,” he murmured, his voice shaky to his own ears. 

“What?” Asked John on the other end, sounding confused and rushed. “Dude, can you give me more or not? I need to fucking know.” 

Gavin’s smile broke and his expression turned serious. 

He felt more alive than he ever had. His blood was rushing in his ears, his heart was beating wildly in his chest, his hands were shaky, and his breaths were broken and uneven. He looked like a compete wreck, but on the inside he was a firecracker, and explosion of fiery, chaotic energy. He was addicted to feeling that fear, that rush, that sense of power that he never had before. He wanted that confidence, that feeling of success. 

So, with uneven movements Gavin raised the phone to his cheek and forced himself to breathe. When he spoke, he felt a smile grace his features and he knew, he just knew that he was digging himself deeper into a dark, dark hole. 

And he once again wondered if Kamski felt the same way when he looked at his diagram of plastic whores, his metal humans. He wondered if success was supposed to be both horrifying and elating. He wondered if chasing that rush meant a life of solitude, a life of obsessing over yourself. 

He wondered all these things and more. 

“How much more do you want?” 

John answered, sounding relieved. “As much as I can fucking afford.”


	2. Chapter 2

Of course, dealing drugs was much more complicated than just handing over amounts of red ice and getting money in return. He had to decided how to price each small amount, how to keep himself hidden, how to hide the loads of money he got, and how to keep himself safe and alive. 

Shit, being a fucking drug dealer was stressful as all fuck. 

Now that the drug was out on the streets, he couldn’t risk making it in his house anymore. So, the moment he hung up with John, he immediately raided his garage and emptied it of any and all evidence that could link him to the crime. He also scrubbed his garage spotless, making sure to get every goddamn nook and cranny, no matter how small. He even burned the old t-shirt and jeans he wore under his lab apron, worrying that any lingering smell could possibly incriminate him. 

Gavin stored everything in his basement, towards the very back, where no light shone. He then got a hammer and with all his might, swung it at the concrete floor. He did that over and over again till a sizable chunk was made. After that, he placed the many pounds of Red Ice into the crater before covering it with a false floor. 

So, both his equipment and Red Ice were in his basement, waiting to become of use. 

And they would be, but Gavin had to be patient. 

*

First and foremost, Gavin needed somewhere else to make Red Ice. Not only that, but he needed to do it somewhere remote and isolated, somewhere he could spend hours at a time without raising suspicion. 

And he knew just how to do it. 

Using the money he’d acquired after selling more Red Ice to John, Gavin went online to search for any old, used RV’s he could possibly buy. Of course, buying one from an online website would increase his chances of finding someone willing to sell one without filling out any paperwork, which is exactly what Gavin needed. 

He had to avoid paper trails at all costs. After all, he didn’t need people wondering where he suddenly got the money to buy an RV. 

After only a week of searching, Gavin found a suitable RV whose owner was willing to keep a hold of it till he found a place to put it. After another week of searching, that place happened to be three hours away, at a run down, rickety old trailer park that was understaffed and barely keeping afloat. The second Gavin learned about it, he rented a space for his RV (under a fake identity, of course) and prepared for the trip. 

So, he spent that entire weekend moving all his equipment into the RV, and then proceeded to drive the RV three hours away to a place he’d never been before. He spent Saturday getting things in order and making sure the place would be suitable for his (highly illegal) activities. 

Each rented plot had a surprising amount of space, which made sense considering the rent was pretty high. It was also surrounded by dense forestry, which would help mask the scent of the Red Ice. To be honest, the place was pretty fucking shitty, but it was perfect considering what he was planning on doing there. 

He spent Sunday morning and afternoon double checking on everything, before finally heading back to Detroit that evening, which was a long ass drive. He had work in the morning too, which made Gavin curse and scream in his car. 

God, he was fucking exhausted.

So, Monday morning, Gavin trudged into the DPD, his eyes dark and tired and his attitude shittier than normal. 

“I should’ve taken up yoga like every other depressed asshole in the world,” he muttered to himself as he took a seat at his desk. Fuck, he forgot to get coffee. 

Quickly, Gavin got up from his desk and made his way to the break room, but was stopped in his tracks by a yell from across the room. 

“Detective Reed! Get your ass over here, now!” 

Gavin stood frozen for a moment before grinding his teeth together and facing Fowler, who was scowling at him openly. 

“What?” he asked, confused on what the fuck me managed to do wrong so early in the day. 

“We’re having a staff meeting. Or did you not notice everyone else’s desks are empty?” 

Fuck, he hadn’t noticed that. Jesus Christ, he really was going brain dead, wasn’t he? He needed to get more sleep or just catch a break, or both. Fuck it, he needed both desperately. 

Gavin crossed his arms over his chest with a deep, angry frown. “I noticed,” he lied, “I was just hoping it was my lucky day.” 

“Just get in here, asshole!” Hank yelled from inside the staff room, not visible but his voice definitely audible. 

Fowler took a moment to scold Hank before leveling his attention back to Gavin. “Get it here,” he ordered, his voice cold as steel. 

Gavin barely kept himself from screaming in frustration. 

*

Androids, their meeting was about andriods of all fucking things. The universe really hated him, huh? Why not just end his misery and kill him already, or better yet, just erase his entire fucking existence? 

Gavin had a deep frown on his face the entire meeting, his arms crossed over his chest defensively and his shoulders hunched forward, as if he were cold or sickly. He didn’t want to hear about androids, he didn’t want to acknowledge them or think about them. 

Fuck, he wished they didn’t exist along with his asshole step brother. 

Fowler stood at the front of the room, tall and authoritative. He spoke clearly and concisely, getting to the matter of hand quickly. 

“As of the last three months, androids have been committing crimes against humans at an increasing rate.” 

“Just shut them all down,” Gavin muttered lowly. One of his coworkers sent him a disapproving glare but Gavin didn’t flinch and stared straight back at them, daring them to say anything. Predictably, they stayed silent. 

Pussy. 

Fowler continued. “In just the last two weeks, two assaults have been committed by andriods, each of their victims being their owners.” 

“Should’ve known better than to trust the plastic pricks,” Gavin whispered to himself, his voice dripping with contempt. 

Behind him, Hank rolled his eyes and shifted further back into his seat. “Can you shut the fuck up for once, Reed?” 

Gavin responded by coughing loudly and rudely, a non-verbal que telling him that he could go fuck himself. Fowler noticed, but didn’t stop speaking, deciding to instead glare at him angrily, but it didn’t make Gavin falter. 

Fowler didn’t scare him. And if he did before, he definitely didn’t now. 

Everyone in the precinct knew Gavin’s view on androids, after all, he made no attempts to hide them. If androids were ever added to a discussion, Gavin wouldn’t bother to hide his anger and hatred. He never gave androids attention and he never spoke or acknowledged their existence unless absolutely necessary. And he never worked with androids despite there being some at the precinct (much to his disgust). In fact, the androids that did work there simply stood at their pods till they were needed. 

Watching them stand like fucking mannequins always sent chills down his spine and he always had to look away. God, he hated them. They were fucking perfect in every way. They worked faster than humans, they were smarter, more obedient, and empty of all emotion. Their eyes were dead, and their words were meaningless. 

They were soulless machines. Nothing more, nothing less. The only thing that set them apart from his fucking phone was their packaging. 

Gavin hated how human they looked, how easy they could blend in with the rest of the population. When he saw them, he was always reminded of Kamski, of his brother’s obsession with creating a new species, a new, perfect race. 

“They’ll be better than us,” Kamski once said on their way home from high school. “They’ll look like us, talk like us, sound like us, but they’ll always be better.” 

Gavin despised Kamski’s fucked up mind and his all-powerful obsession with his plastic dolls. He still had many questions, but he had no intention of speaking to his step brother ever again, so they would go forever unanswered. Not to mention, Kamski was no longer working at Cyber Life, and had sold his company long ago. 

Gavin knew that Kamski hadn’t created any of the newer models, but he knew that their machinery was similar, that their hardware was still much the same. 

Gavin was disgusted by the notion of owning a fucking android. It was like having a maid, but worse because they were in your house 24/7 and looked, acted, and spoke like a person. Owning an android was basically owning a slave.

He didn’t know how someone could fucking stomach owning one. How they could give one orders and just watch as the android nodded obediently and got to work. He couldn’t imagine fucking one either and having to look into their dead eyes as he fucked them, using them like a fucking sex toy. God, people were disgusting. 

He’d always wonder why Kamski let his ‘perfect’ plastic dolls become nothing more than slaves… 

But then Fowler continued, and Gavin no longer frowned in anger, but in confusion and interest. 

“There is often a distinguishable similarity between many android crime cases, which is this.” Fowler clicked the button of his remote and an image was plastered on the board for everyone to see. It was a picture of a wall, one that was covered in neat, almost obsessive writing. However, it wasn’t a sentence or a drawing, it was just three symbols.

“AR9” was written over and over and over again, as if the writer had been afraid to forget it. 

“We have yet to understand what this means,” Fowler said, “but it is the only link between each crime. There are many theories of what it means, but the most prevalent one is that it is a virus that causes androids to deviate from their programming and attack their owners.” 

Gavin scoffed at the word ‘virus.’ For humans, a virus meant a couple sick days off and some warm soup, but for androids it apparently meant going on a fucking killing spree. 

Give him a fucking break. 

He was done hearing this, done listening to this. 

“Serves them right,” Gavin said aloud for everyone to hear. “If you buy an android you should be ready to get fucking killed by one.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Reed,” Hank said from behind him. 

Gavin hated that old, depressed son of a bitch, but at the same time he respected him. He was the only one (besides Fowler) with the balls to call him out on his shit despite coming to work late almost every goddamn day half drunk and stumbling. 

Soon after, the meeting ended, and Gavin was the first to walk out of the room, shoving his way through the door. There was a heavy frown on his forehead and exhaustion ate away at him. 

Jesus Fucking Christ, he needed some sleep. 

*

Fuck sleep, apparently. 

The second he got home from work Gavin planned on high tailing it straight to his bed and deep into the bliss of unconsciousness, but the second he entered his bedroom his burner phone rang. Gavin barely kept himself from hurtling it at a wall. 

He grinded his teeth together as he answered the call with the harsh press of his finger. “What the fuck do you want, John?” 

“You’re as kind as ever, asshole,” John said, sounding relaxed and a bit annoyed. “I need more Red Ice.” 

With a breath, Gavin sat on the edge of his bed and rested his elbows on his knees. “Congradu-fucking-lations, John. But you’re going to have to wait a bit.” 

The other man was clearly outraged by this. “What the fuck, why?” 

Gavin hummed to himself, nonchalant and confident. “I have a bit more planning to do, and because I need to make sure you’re not fucking me over.” 

John let out a high pitched, angry laugh. “Really? You think I’ve betrayed you already? You’re so full of shit.” 

Gavin frowned. “Maybe I am, bitch. But if you want more Red Ice, I’ll have to know a bit more about your clientele.”

“What the fuck is there to know about them? They’re druggies, that’s all that matters.” 

Gavin rolled his eyes, not at all surprised by his partner in crime’s lack of wit. “You really are a fucking idiot, you know that? Just tell me what I want to know and shut up.” 

“Fine, asshole! Ask away!”

Gavin smiled, feeling a rush of power. 

There were many advantages to being a cop and a drug dealer at the same time. He knew things most people wouldn’t about the police force, he knew the protocol, he knew their shifts, their patrol routes, and more. 

If he played his cards right, he didn’t doubt for a second Red Ice could become a huge success. 

So, with a cruel gleam in his dark eyes, Gavin asked, “How old are you clients?” 

“The fuck? Why does that matter?” 

With an annoyed groan, Gavin said, “Because if one of your little druggie customers happens to be a teenager and ups and overdoses, I don’t feel like having to deal with it. Adults only, that way people give less of a shit and the drug will go undetected for longer. Cops are always looking for the new ‘fad’ drugs kids are using.” 

“Oh fuck…” John said, sounding a bit winded. “Good point.” 

For the millionth time, Gavin wondered how the world functioned with so many fucking idiots around.


	3. Chapter 3

Now that Gavin's RV was set up and his equipment ready to go, he was once again ready to make more Red Ice. There was only one problem, his RV was three fucking hours away and he couldn't afford to make the six hour trip every goddamn night. 

So, in a show of extreme sacrifice, Gavin decided to give up his weekends to the task. 

So, Monday through Friday he was a cop, and Saturday through Sunday he was a drug dealer dressed in shitty lab gear and boxers. Yeah, he looked like a fucking idiot, but he got shit done which was all that mattered. 

Not to mention, he was getting pretty fucking good at making Red Ice. With each new batch, he became faster, better, and more efficient. He knew the recipe by heart and had long since stopped relying upon Kamski's old blueprint. 

He started wondering about things one weekend, as he continued to make his pretty red crystals in his solitary RV. 

He thought back to why he had started making Red Ice in the first place. He thought about all the nights he had spent alone in his home, his head heavy and his thoughts slow and sad. He thought about his internal longing for family, for someone to be close to. 

He wondered if he still felt that way. 

Gavin sneered to himself. “Shut the fuck up,” he whispered. “Stop being a little bitch and get back to work.” 

So, he did and didn’t wonder about it for the rest of the day. 

*

Surprisingly, Gavin’s relationship with work only seemed to get better and better. There was more action due to the increase of android related crimes and any drug bust the department had made had so far been unrelated to Red Ice. 

Until today. 

Gavin grimaced as he waked into the shitty, hell hole apartment of their latest victim. It smelled like death, spoiled food, and rot, his favorite fucking smell. 

“Jesus,” Gavin cursed. “This scent makes my fucking intestines want to retreat out of my body.” 

The cop beside him (Gavin didn’t bother to read his name plate) let out an amused huff. “Ditto.” 

They walked further into the apartment, revealing dirty, stained walls and shitty, old furniture. The television was still on, showing a game show that should’ve been cancelled years ago. The carpet floor was littered with dark stains in almost every color imaginable and the corners of the room were flooded with trash bags. 

“What a fucking slob,” Gavin sneered, his nose crinkling in disgust. 

The cop laughed again. “Wait till you see the body.” 

Of course, the druggie fucker died in a pool of his own vomit. Of fucking course he did. 

The man, forty year old Shawn Romer, was slumped against the corner of his kitchen with his head lying in a puddle of dark brown vomit. He was dressed in a pair of ratty sweat pants and a dark purple tank top that look unwashed and tainted. He wasn’t wearing shoes, but his socks were stained a dark grey from use. His face was pale, and void of any color and his eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling. There seemed to be fear swimming in his dark brown eyes, capturing the last bits of emotions he felt before dying. 

Gavin wasn’t fazed by what he saw, but what he smelled was a different story all together. The air was putrid and filled with the scent of vomit, death, and decomposing flesh, but underneath all that he could smell something else. He’d recognize it anywhere. 

Red Ice. 

“So,” Gavin asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Who found him?” 

“The neighbor lady,” said the cop, looking down at the corpse with a shake of his head. “Apparently, they play bingo once a week and she wanted to check up on him when he didn’t show up.” 

“I’m surprised the sight didn’t give her a heart attack,” Gavin replied crudely. 

“Me neither. From our estimates, he’s been dead for at least a few days.” 

“Great,” Gavin said with a groan. “Cause of death?” 

“Well, it’s easy enough to see that he overdosed.” 

“Then why the fuck am I here?” Gavin snapped, waiting for the ball to drop. 

The cop sent him a mildly annoyed look, but got to the point. “Well, Detective Gavin, it’s because we haven’t yet identified the drug.” The man walked to the kitchen table, where a large bag labeled ‘evidence’ was sitting. Inside the bag was another smaller bag of red, shining crystals. 

It was one fourth of an ounce, priced at 280$, Gavin’s mind supplied. 

The cop let out a contemplative hum. “I’ve never seen anything like it. We’re going to send it to the lab for testing.” 

Gavin inspected the Red Ice closely, as if seeing it for the first time. “Looks like crystal meth,” he wondered aloud. 

“That’s what I thought too, but I’ve never seen red meth before.” 

Gavin shrugged, straightening his posture. “Could be some dumbasses way of marking his territory. I’ve seen that shit done before. One guy used to put chilly pepper in his meth, said it was like a signature. Fucking idiot.” 

The cop didn’t seem convinced. “Yeah, sure, I’ve heard of that type of shit too, but red meth? That seems a bit too flashy, don’t you think?” 

Gavin shrugged his shoulders. “How the fuck am I supposed to know what a drug dealer thinks like?” 

The cop didn’t bother to hide his annoyance anymore. “Well, you’re gonna have to. I’m pretty sure this’ll be your next case.” 

Gavin kept his emotions off his face. “You want me to scour Detroit for a drug that we haven’t even heard of yet? I got bigger fish to fry than some asshole adding red dye to his batch of meth.” 

“Too back, Reed. If the test comes back positive for meth, then forget about it, but if not, then do your fucking job. We don’t need another popular drug littering the streets.” 

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me and say that there isn’t always going to be room for fuck up’s like him,” he said, pointing to the dead corpse in the corner. “We live in a shit hole city where people would rather put a needle in their arm than work for a pay check that’ll undoubtedly be thrown away once an android takes their place.” 

The cop turned away with a scoff. “Save it for your blog, Reed.” 

“I’d rather save it for your wife.” 

Once again, Gavin didn’t bother to wonder why he was hated so much. Minutes later, as he walked out of the shitty apartment building he took the time to scoff and shake his head, thinking of his dead customer. “Fucking light weight.” 

*

Two weeks later, when the lab result came back, Gavin knew shit would change. The discovery of Red Ice would make balancing his job and his ‘hobby’ that much harder, but he was prepared. He wasn’t going to give up and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let paranoia wreak havoc on his life. 

So, when the lab results came in, revealing that a new drug was now prowling the streets of Detroit, Gavin was more than willing to get to work solving the mystery of its origin. He knew exactly where to NOT look and how to lie to everyone’s face if need be. He was ready to waste time, to make things that much more difficult for the DPD. 

However, there was only one problem. 

“You and Hank will be working together on this investigation,” said Fowler as he lounged behind his desk, as calm and collected as always. 

Gavin didn’t bother to hide his objection. “The fuck? You don’t think I can handle it on my own?” 

Beside him, Hank was also frowning, clearly displeased by the news. “What the fuck makes you think I want to work with this asshole?” 

“Fuck off, depressed prick,” Gavin shot back. 

“Shove it up your ass,” Hank spat, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Shut the hell up, both of you,” Fowler ordered, already at his wits end. He pointed at Gavin, “I don’t trust you to be professional,” he then pointed to Hank, “And I sure as hell don’t care what YOU want, considering it’s a struggle to even get your ass here in the morning.” 

Both Gavin and Hank looked away, muttering to themselves. 

Fowler continued. “You either do what I say or walk your asses out and find employment elsewhere. Have I made myself clear?” 

“Crystal,” Gavin said with clenched teeth. 

“Yeah, sure,” Hank muttered with an angry glare. 

This was bound to be one giant fucking disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope some of you were able to appreciate the Breaking Bad references ;D And if you found any spelling errors, please tell me and I'll correct them immediately!


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